The FINALISED NEW COVER PAGE OF "...Aur Bus Ruk Gayi"

Tabish Khair'sTHE BUS STOPPED as AUR BUS RUK GAYI translated into the Hindi by Sheba Rakesh

The Bus Stopped in Hindi Translation: Another Snippet

lM+d fdukjs cls xk¡oksa ds NksVs ?kjksa dh dPph nhokjsa oLrqr% foKkiu gh gksrh gSaA HkM+dhyk ihyk] dPpk ihyk jax nhokjksa ij iksrrs gSa vkSj muds Åij rst+ yky ;k uhys jax esa bckjr jgrh gSA

^cSn~;ukFk*&;g igyh nhokjA ^iwtk xath vkSj cfu;ku*&;g gS nwljhA rhljh nhokj vHkh&vHkh rkt+h iqrh gS&dqN gS&ij i<+us esa ugha vk jgk gSA fQj ,d NksVh lh bckjr&

^mtkyk VwFk ikmMjA*

&nk¡rksa esa mtkyk Hkj nsAA

14

ot+hj fe;k¡ gekjs i<+s&fy[ks ukSdjksa esa ls ,d FksA mnwZ fy[kuk tkurs Fks vkSj fxurh Hkh dj ysrs FksA vkSj tSlk yktokc mudk [kkuk Fkk] oSlh gh yktokc mudh vaxzst+hA ,slh Fkh fd f”k{kdksa dk ,d iwjk lSU; tRFkk Hkh mudh vaxzsft+;r dh yTt+r gekjh t+ckuksa ls Nhu ugha ik;k FkkA b”Vsd ¼tks njvly ^LVhd* Fkk½] b”Vw ¼tks ^bfLV;w* Fkk½ fpdu vYykg dkVs ¼tks fpdu ,sy&dkrZ Fkk½] VekVj ck¡l dkV ¼tks njvly VesVks ckLdsV Fkk½ djek&iqrhu ¼tks dSjsey iqfMax Fkk½ ”kCnksa dh nqfu;k gels NqVk;s ugha NwVrh Fkh vkSj gekjs v/;kid ekj&ekj ds gesa t+ekus ds lkeus fe;k¡ dh vaxzsth ds fcuk izLrqr gksus dh njdkj j[krs FksA [kSj] vkf[kjdkj tks og pkgrs Fks&oSlk gks x;kA ij vc Hkh] eSa vkSj esjk HkkbZ] vdsys esa b”Vsd vkSj b”Vw dk Hkjiwj et+k ysrs&Hkyk ,slk Lokn tekulkt+h okys ^LVhd* vkSj ^bfLV;w* esa dgk¡ Fkk\ vkSj gk¡] ml ^djek&iqrhu* dk tk;dk&mldh gYdh lqugjh jaxr vkSj eq¡g esa ikuh ykus dh vnk gesa vkt Hkh vius fiNys tUeksa ds iq.;ksa dk vglkl fnykrh FkhA

ij bu lcds ckotwn ot+hj fe;k¡ vaxzst+h ds dnznku dHkh ugha jgsA og mnwZ ls I;kj djrs gSa vkSj gesa Hkh ;kn gS mudh ,d vaxzsth ”kCn ds fo#) og HkM+dh gq;h izfrfØ;kA cki js cki!!

gqvk ;w¡ fd ,d ”kkunkj ikVhZ ds ckn ot+hj fe;k¡ dks lcls feyok;k x;kA fe;k¡ vius yt+ht [kkus dh ”kku esa dh x;h rkjhQksa ds Vksdjs cVksj gh jgs Fks fd esjs ikik us mUgsa ,d

esgeku ls [kklrkSj ij feyok;kA ;g lkgc ,d nf{k.k Hkkjrh; vQlj Fks tks fgUnh vkSj mnwZ u ds cjkcj tkurs FksA vaxzst+h esa ckrphr gq;h vkSj fe;k¡ ds ckjs esa crk;k x;kA T+;knk vaxzst+h rks gekjs fe;k¡ tkurs ugha Fks ij lHkh cksys gq, “kCnksa esa ls ,d “kCn ;w¡ idM+k fd tSls pksj dl dj viuh iSlksa dh xBjh idM+rk gSA tkuuk pkgrs gSa dkSu lk ”kCn Fkk\&^dqd*

”kk;n gekjs fnekxksa ls ;g ckr fudy pqdh Fkh fd esjs HkkbZ us fe;k¡ dks vaxzst+h esa ,d ^ØS”k dkslZ* djok;k FkkA ugha le>s\ vjs] vaxzst+h esa ,d ^>ViV dkslZ*& rkfd fe;k¡ NksVs&eksVs ”kCn le> ldsaaA vkSj ;g Hkh blfy;s fd fe;k¡ viuh lk[k ds iqy dh ”kgrhjsa et+cwr dj ldsaA ^ckophZ* ”kCn ls mUgsa dks¶r FkhA dHkh vxj fdlh us ^ckophZ* cqyk fn;k rks fe;k¡ viuh lk¡l ysdj] isV nck dj] lhuk Qqyk dj N% QhV dk dn iwjk djds ”kku ls Qjekrs Fks&^^ckophZ ugha] ckcw! [kkulkek!!** vaxzst+h dh ikfVZ;ksa esa fe;k¡ dh “kku u Qhdh iM+s rks esjs HkkbZ us mUgsa vaxzst+h dh irokj FkekbZ rkfd uke dh uS;k lyker jgsA mUgsa crk;k x;k&^dqd* ekus ckophZ&^”ksQ* ekus [kkulkekA

vc fe;k¡ lh[k pqds Fks fd vaxzst+nka ds lkeus viuh lk[k vaxzst+h ls dSls cpk;saA rks cl] jkt+ks&jtokM+ksa vkSj gekjs tSls [kkunkuh ifjokjksa esa lh[kh xbZ vaxzst+h dk fxykl mBk;k vkSj ml Hk;kud xyrh ds flj ij mM+sy fn;k&

^^uks dqd lj! phQ+!!**

^”ksQ* dh txg fe;k¡ phQ+ Fks!! ij xyr mPpkj.k esa Hkh lgh ek;uk FkkA og gj fygkt+ ls jlksbZ ds ^phQ* FksA etky gS fd IysVksa] diksa] pEepksa] vkSj pwYgksa dh nqfu;k dk ,d dkaVk Hkh ¼iRrs rks nwj dh ckr Fks½ mudh ethZ ds fcuk fgy tk;s! vkSj ,slk dsoy muds lkFk dke djus okyksa ds fy;s ugha Fkk&gekjs fy;s vkSj gekjs ekrk&firk ds fy;s Hkh FkkA

ij vc] jlksbZ dk nk;jk fleVus lk yxk FkkA fe;k¡ [kqyh fQt+k esa [kkuk idkus ds vknh FksA [kqys vk¡xu esa cM+s dejs vkSj lkFk yxs LVksjA vc ?kj esa gh vyx dejk mudk lkjk vf/kdkj {ks= FkkA muds laxh&lkFkh] ennxkj lc xk;c gks pqds Fks vkSj ”kkunkj ”kkgh esgekuuokth dk nkSj yxHkx [kRe gh FkkA fe;k¡ ds ykSVus ds ckn gekjs ?kj esa mUgsa iw.kZ Lojkt izkIr Fkk&tSlk pkgs idk;sa] vkSj gekjs ikd”kkL= ds vuqHkoksa dks fuiq.k djsaA ij bl vktknh ds ckotwn og eghus esa eqf”dy ls gksus okyh ,d&vk/k ikVhZ ds /kkxksa ls dl dj ca/k x, Fks&blls T+;knk t”u vc gksrs ugha FksA vkSj buesa Hkh T;knk ls T;knk nks ;k rhu rjg ds “kksjcs vkSj muds lkFk ,d rjg dh jksVhA g¶rs ds vUr esa dqN ehBkA cl! vc u rks muds ”kkgh [kkus dks p[kus okys brus lkjs yksx gh cps Fks vkSj egaxkbZ flj ij lokj FkhA

gesa ;kn gS fd dSls gj nwljs fnu fe;k¡ dk psgjk mnklh ds ?kus cknyksa dks phjrk gqvk&est+ ij j[ks nks rhu idokuksa ij viuk ihykiu fc[ksjrk vkSj fQj iwNrk&

^^ckcw] eSa vkSj dj ldrk gw¡\**

;k ”kk;n ,sls ughaA og dgrs] cksry ds ftUu dh rjg]

^^dqN vkSj Qjekb”k ckcw!\**

bruk dgrs& muds cM+s&cM+s gkFk] cspSuh vkSj csdkjh ls NviVkrs gq, ls yxrsA esjs ekrk&firk ,slh fLFkfr esa [khtus ls yxs FksA ge t+jk Hkh ÅviVkax gjdr djrs rks MiV fn;s tkrs FksA ij ot+hj fe;k¡ ls fQj Hkh cM+h uehZ ls is”k vkrs gq, dgrs&^vjs ugha] ot+hj fe;k¡! vkius igys gh bruk dqN dj fn;k!**

fe;k¡ dk psgjk mnklh dk dkyk dEcy vkSj dl dj vius Åij <kai ysrkA cspSu vkSj csdkj gkFk] nksxqus cspSu gks mBrs vkSj fQj /khjs&/khjs dne&nj&dne c<+krs gq, og fQj viuh jlksbZ dh nqfu;k esa okfil pys tkrsAfe;k¡ ds lHkh cPps muls feyus vkrs jgs Fks&lcls cM+s csVs dks NksM+ dj!

”kq#vkr esa tc vk;k rks Mjiksd&fQj vkM+ ds rkSj ij gj ckj vius cPpksa dks lkFk ys vkrkA cPps vius nknk dks cgqr ;kn djrsA yxHkx vBkjg eghus ckn fe;k¡ dks ?kj ls [kr feyk&

^^eqUuw chekj gSA mlds vCck dks enn pkfg,A**

fe;k¡ us gekjh eEeh dks crk;kA eqUuw mudk lcls NksVk iksrk FkkA ,d xky esa xM~<k vkSj ges”kk cgrh ukd okyk eqUuw vius nknktku dh tku FkkA cl LVS.M dh vksj jokuk gksus ls igys fe;k¡ cksys Fks&

^^bZn ls igys vk tkšxk-----

vkf[kj bZn ij eSa gh idkšxkA**

bZn ij fe;k¡ ugha vk;sA feV~Vh ds ?kM+s esa crZu esa IykfLVd ls <ds gq, muds gkFk yt+ht lh[k dckc vk,A mudk lcls cM+k csVk] iryh ewaN okyk] vthc lk ?ke.M Hkjk psgjk ysdj ck;sa xky ij nks bap dk fu”kku ysdj tks cpiu esa dgha fxjus ls cuk Fkk&vkSj dckc ysdj vk;k FkkA fe;k¡ ds ;gk¡ ls tkus ds ckn igyk ekSdk Fkk tc mudk csVk ;gk¡ vk;k Fkk vkSj muds dejs ls lkjk lkeku cka/k dj ys x;k Fkk&^^vCck cw<+s gks pqds gSaA dke ugha dj ikrs vkSj vc djus dh t#jr Hkh ugha jg xbZ gSA viuh dyQnkj dM+d deht+ ds dkWyj esa Åaxyh ?kqekbZ&?ke.M tkfgj Fkk vkSj gkft+j FkkA ubZ VsjhdkWV dh cSy ckVEl] tks bZn ds ekSds ij [kjhnh xbZ Fkh vkSj [kkl dj gesa fn[kkus ds fy;s iguh xbZ Fkh&lkFk gh fiNys nl feuV esa rhu

ckj lkgc gesa crk pqds Fks fd bl bZn ds volj ij og ^iwjh* [kLlh dh dqckZuh nsus okys Fks] fd xk¡o esa mudh ,d jk”ku dh nqdku Fkh] vkSj [kklrkSj ij ;g fd og dksbZ fdlku ugha FksA gkykafd VwVs uk[kwuksa esa Hkjh xnZ] feV~Vh vkSj xanxh dqN vkSj gh nkLrku c;ka dj jgs FksA

tkrs oDr trkuk vkSj Hkh t#jh gks x;k rks ;g iwNk fd ^ijkbosV* cl dc tkrh gS\ vkSj dgk¡ ls tkrh gS\ nwljs xk¡o okyksa dh rjg ^izhokV* rks ugha dgk ij izkbosV Hkh ugha dg ik;kA vkSj “kCn brus /;ku ls mPpkfjr fd;k x;k Fkk fd vaxzst+h esa mldk de Kku vkSj lkFk mith ghurk dh Hkkouk lkQ >ydrh FkhA Hkk’kk vkSj lkekftd Hksn dk fj”rk og [kwc le>rk FkkA tkurk Fkk fd Hkk’kk ugha rks mldk lkekftd Lfkku Hkh ugha&vkSj blfy;s mlus dgk ^izhoSV* clA

Also on Safe World...

Cuntspeak from Pravda also featuring on Safe World for Women.
http://www.asafeworldforwomen.org/partners-in-asia/partners-in-india/pankh/pankh-media/3111-women-in-language.html

CuntSpeak: Linguistic Intelligence and Women.

http://english.pravda.ru/history/18-09-2012/122187-cuntspeak-0/

An interview.

http://copyleftwebjournal.wordpress.com/2012/09/30/freedom-of-thought-and-expression-is-the-essence-of-writing-an-online-interview-with-sheba-rakesh/

An Excerpt from the Hindi Translation of Tabish Khair's The Bus Stopped

felst+ ehjpankuh “kk;n dqN vkSj dguk pkg jgh Fkha ij cl ,d >Vds ds lkFk #d x;h---vkSj irk ugha dgk¡ ls ,d fQjaxh ySnj dh vVSph dks lhus ls yxk;s cl ij p<+kA lc yksxksa us mls iyV dj ns[kk---;g tjk vthc fdLe dk fQjaxh Fkk---vkerkSj ij ^ik;s tkus okys* fgfIi;ksa dh rjg ugha Fkk---tks vDlj yksdy clksa vkSj Vªsuksa ij fey tkrs gSa---vkSj lp dgw¡ rks irk ugha bruh cgqrk;r esa D;ksa fey tkrs gSaA\ [kSj] ;g mudh rjg ugha FkkA ;g muesa ls Fkk tks ,vj&daMh”kUM VSfDl;ksa esa pyrs gSaA

      [kSj] og f>>drs gq;s vUnj vk;k] fgpdrs gq;s vkl&ikl ns[kk vkSj ekuks okfil Hkkxus gh okyk Fkk fd dUMDVj us gekjs ikl cSBs gq;s x¡okj dks ?kqM+dh nh]

      ^^rqEgsa vxys LVki ij mrjuk gS u!\∙∙---rks pyks] txg NksM+ks!!**

      xk¡o okys us txg NksM+h rks fQjaxh ogk¡ vueuk lk cSB gh x;kA vVSph ds dsl dks dldj vius iSjksa esa nckdj cSB x;k vkSj xqBuksa dk rkyk yxk fn;k rkfd dksbZ pksj mls pqjk u ik;sA oSls Hkh] bl rjhds dh cl esa T+;knkrj yksx mls pksj&mpDds gh ut+j vk jgs gksaxsA

      “kk;n mls vdcjkckn ls VSDlh idM+uh Fkh] D;ksafd mldh dkj chp esa gh [kjkc gks x;h FkhA ge mls crk ldrs Fks fd og vdcjkckn ls VSDlh ugha idM+ ik;sxk] D;ksafd vdcjkckn esa VSDlh feyrh gh ughaA ogk¡ dqN frifg;k okgu feyrs gSa&vkWVks fjD”kk&tks lk/kkj.kr% nw/k Hkjs duLrjksa vkSj eqfxZ;ksa Hkjs MCcksa ls Hkjs gq;s gksrs gSa---vkSj dHkh&dHkh pyrs&pyrs iwjs ds iwjs iyV tkrs gSa&gkykafd ,sls gknlksa esa fdlh dks T;knk pksV ugha vkrhA

      vdcjkckn vk x;kA HkhM+&HkkM+ okys <kcs ds cxy esa ge yksx #dsA efD[k;ksa dh fHku&fHkukgV us lky esa bl le; Hkh ekgkSy dks “kksj&”kjkcs okyk cuk gh j[kk FkkA flj ds Åij fctyh ds rkjksa dh jsyeisy&ns[k dj irk yxrk Fkk fd vdcjkckn] ,d dLck ;k dfg;s] ,d ^NksVk “kgj* FkkA VSªDVj] vkWVks&fjD”kk] Bsys] [kPpj&xkfM+;k¡] dkjksa ds v/khj gkuZ] ^fVªu& fVªu* lkbZfdyksa dh HkhM+---vkSj bu lcds chp esa gekjh cM+h lh cl---ekuks jkLrs dh jkuh! lM+d ds fdukjs nks nqdkunkj FksA dqN mcys v.Ms] elkyksa vkSj I;kt+ ds yPNksa ds lkFk vius xzkgdksa dh Hkw[k “kkUr dj jgk Fkk] rks nwljh rjQ ,d NksVs ls LVkso ij e[kkus Hkwurh gqbZ ,d vkSjr] dkxt ds f=dks.k cukdj] csp jgh FkhA

      ^^,s! ;g dksbZ QksdV dh ljdkjh cl fn[krh gS D;k!!\---eq¡g mBk;k vkSj pys vk;s\**&cl esa ?kqlus okys fHk[kkjh dks dUMDVj vkSj Dyhuj us tksj ls QVdkj yxkbZA fQj gekjs dUMDVj dks felst+ ehjpUnkuh dh esgekuuokt+h dk [;ky vk;k vkSj gjh pVuh ds ikuh esa Hkhxs gq;s nks xhys ls leksls mlus cgqr I;kj ls felst+ ehjpUnkuh ds lkeus ijksls vkSj muls iSls Hkh ugha fy;s---og leksls eSaus Hkh [kk;sA

      ---vkSj bu lcds chp og fQjaxh ckgj VSDlh ryk”k jgk Fkk---gkFk esa vVSph dk dsl dl dj Fkkes gq;s og cl esa Fkd gkj dj okfil p<+k---tkfgj Fkk] mls VSDlh ugha fey ik;h FkhA dUMDVj us mldh lhV lqjf{kr j[kh gq;h FkhA vkf[kjdkj Fkddj cspkjs fQjaxh us flj viuh ck¡gksa esa Nqik fy;k---ilhus esa Hkhxh deht+] fldqM+k gqvk /kwy ls xUnk gqvk dksV] mldh ekufld vkSj “kkjhfjd nqnZ”kk dks c[kwch fn[kk jgk Fkk---;w¡ rks bruh xehZ esa dksV iguus dk dksbZ eryc ugha Fkk] ij vUnj iguh gq;h xqykch deht+ dks eVeSyh gksus esa nks feuV ls T+;knk ugha yxrk vxj mlus og dksV iguk u gksrkA

      b/kj] og yM+dk tks x;k cl LVkWi ij cl esa p<+k Fkk&vjs ogh ftls] eSaus mlds gkFk esa ml egaxh lkM+h dh otg ls igpkuk Fkk---dwn dj fQjaxh ds cxy esa vk dj cSB x;k vkSj jVh&jVk;h vaxzst+h esa dqN ckrsa djus dh dksf”k”k djus yxkA ;g csjrrhch ls vkdf’kZr djus dh ,d cs<axh vkSj ukdke dksf”k”k gh Fkh D;ksafd fQjaxh fcYdqy [kkeks”k jgk vkSj gk¡&gw¡ esa flj fgykdj gYds ls tokc fn;kA “kk;n mls yM+ds dh ckr le> esa gh ugha vk;h gksxh ;k “kk;n mls irk gksxk fd blls T+;knk vaxzst+h dh dkfcfy;r mlesa Fkh gh ughaA

      [kSj] felst+ ehjpankuh us eq>ls iwNk] ^^---i<+h&fy[kh rks gks u csVh\** ^^---th] ch0,0---**

      tokc rks ns fn;k---ij eSa ch0,0 ugha Fkh---cl Ldwy xbZ Fkh] fy[kuk] i<+uk tkurh Fkh---ch0,0 ikl Hkh rks bruk gh dj ldrs FksA

      ^^yM+fd;ksa dks i<+k&fy[kk gksuk pkfg;s---gekjh iqjkru laLd`fr esa Hkh fL=;k¡ i<+h&fy[kh gksrh FkhaA**

      ^^ikSa&ikSa&ikSa∙∙∙---fVªu& fVªu] fVªu& fVªu---vjs! gVks∙∙∙---cpks!!! Dh vkokt+ksa ds chp cl vdcjkckn LVkWi ls vkxs c<+h vkSj ^^Nikd!** ls xUns ikuh ds ,d fNNys ls ukys dks ikj djrh gq;h vkxs pyh---ikuh ds cqycqys ihNs QwVrs jgs vkSj ge lw[ks [ksrksa ds iFkjhys] lM+dh lhus dks phjrs gq;s vkxs c<+ pysA

      ^^vkxs tuckgk gS!∙∙∙---tuckgk&”ksjiqj&foykliqj&QUlk!!∙∙ tuckgk& ”ksjiqj & foykliqj&QUlk∙∙∙A---** dUMDVj cnLrwj fpYyk jgk FkkA

"AUGUST SKIES"
The August Skies
The Brights and the Highs

Soaring clouds
...Sorrows in shrouds...

The elephant and the steeple
Yond...some leaves of maple

...

Spread against the Blues
reflect the multicolured human hues

Feel there....the breezes
how sweeps and wheezes

Shattering the elephant , steeple and maple shapes,
Ever heard that about desire and the grapes?

Yes, I have....
But we beckon the cool and the crepes

-----Life August-----
Folating and flying
Soaring and Undying

Whites and Blues
 Whisper some news

Of the coming Autmnal waters
and the drunk gait of Spring

Hope saunters
and the tinkle of laughter it brings...

And Eternity and Love,
All soaring human passions far above....

Those are the August Skies,
The Brights and the Highs!

~Sheba Rakesh~

OUT NOW!!!

Cover Page(s) of Books Edited:

1)From Bondages to Emancipation: Woman In English Literature.

2) On The Fringes: Marginalised Voices In English Literature.

Tabish Khair's The Bus Stopped in Hindi -- A Snippet.

 

 

esjs ?kj tgk¡ esjk cpiu chrkA bu ?kjksa esa clus okys lkgcksa vkSj chfo;ksa ls T+;knk ;gk¡ ds xqyke ;gk¡ ds pIis&pIis ls okfdQ FksA ;gk¡ dk dqjsnk gqvk T;kxzkfQ;k] lk;snkj bfrgkl] tyrh gqbZ nksigjh dh vkokts+a vkSj ml ij “khryrk dk vk¡py Mkyrs gq, ijnksa dh ljljkgVsaA vkSj gk¡] ogk¡ dh lqjebZ “kkesaa vkSj lkFk mBrh /kqa/kA bu ?kjksa ds ikyus esa gekjk cpiu >wyk Fkk vkSj gekjh ftUnfx;k¡ HkhA bu >wyuksa dks gekjs xqykeksa us gh >qyk;k FkkA ;g ?kj bUgha dh fuxjkuh esa c<+s gq,] l;kus gq,A blfy;s tSls nkbZ;k¡ vius iSnk fd;s x, cPpksa dks tkurh gS& uCt+ dks igpkurh gS] ;g yksx bu ?kjksa dks tkurs Fks] igpkurs Fks vkSj ekurs FksA

      ysfdu] bldk eryc ;g ugha Fkk fd lkgcksa dk ;ksxnku dqN de FkkA cgqr esgur ls mUgksaus ;g ?kj [kM+s fd;s FksA bZaV] lhesUV] pwus ls T;knk lkeku yxk Fkk bu bekjrksa dks cukus esaA muds lkjs lius vufxur vk”kk;sa] vkSj vius&vius vNwrs ikxyiu! cpiu dh nhokjsa vkSj tokuh ds [kEHkksa ij [kM+h ;g bekjrsa gekjs ?kj FkhaA ^?kj*&gk¡ oks dgrs gSa u&edku bZaVksa ls curk gS ij ?kj lk¡lkas ls curk gSA---rks bu [kEHkksa esa lkgc] chfo;ksa vkSj xqykeksa dh lk¡lsa clrh Fkha vkSj fny /kM+drs FksA

      tSls gh uis&rqys] ncs&ncs dneksa ls ,d lQsn ?kj dh vksj c<+k rks eglwl fd;k fd esjs ekt+h] esjs bfrgkl dh /kwy bl ?kj dks ?ksjs gq;h FkhA ysfdu cjlksa dh the gqbZ xnZ dh bu ijrksa dks eSa ;gk¡ ls gVkuk ugha pkgrk FkkA

      vkf[kjdkj] blh /kwy dh otg ls ^vEeh dk ?kj*] ^vEeh dk ?kj* FkkA gkykafd&^vEeh ds “kkSgj us cuok;k FkkA ij fQj Hkh ;g ^vEeh dk ?kj* Fkk D;ksafd mUgksaus ¼og esjs firkth] rkbZ;ksa] pkfp;ksa vkSj vius lkjs ukrs&iksfr;ksa dh vEeh Fkha vkSj ge lcdh vlyh vfEe;k¡] vEek vkSj eEeh cu pqdh FkhaA gekjs cpiu ls tokuh esa dne j[kus rd bl ?kj dks pyk;kA rc tcfd muds “kkSgj py ugha ldrs FksA vytkbelZ ds dkj.k ,d Oghyps;j ds eksgrkt gks dj jg x;s FksA fQj vkf[kjh lkr cjl dksek esa iM+s jgs vkSj vkf[kjdkj gekjs [kkunkuh dczxkg esa mUgsa Hkkjh nq%[k vkSj cM+h jkgr ds lkFk nQuk fn;k x;k] tgk¡ og vkjke ls lks;s gSaA

      nwljs ?kj esa vpkud vius cpiu ls eqykdkr gq;hA u;s&uosys ikfy”k fd;s x;s ekSlsd ds Q”kZ ij ekuks LdsV djrk gqvk] fQlyrk gqvk xqt+jrk g¡wA ik¡p ;k N% cjl dk gh rks gw¡ eSaA Ldwy okys dkys twrs&ikfy”M vkSj pdkpd pedrs gq;sA ,slk eglwl gqvk fd ekuks ik¡o esa jksyj LdsV~l ds ij yxs gq;s gksa vkSj eSa ,d ifjUnk gw¡A [kq”kfetkt+] viuh gh yxu esa pgdrk gqvk] fpYykrk gqvkA blh [kq”kh Hkjh fpYykgV ls eSaus fdruh ckj bl ?kj dks pgdk;k gSA vkt Hkh lky esa djhc ,d ckj rks ;w¡ gh [kq”kh ls fpYykrk gqvk vkrk gw¡A ij vc ;g ?kj eq> ij iyV dj ugha pgdrkA--- “kk;n cw<+k gks x;k gSA eqLdjkrk gS] vueuk ls tokc nsrk gSA ;g ^esjk* ?kj gS] esjs ekrk&firk dk ?kj gSA dHkh&dHkh ,slk yxrk gS fd ekuks eSaus ges”kk blh ?kj dks tkuk gS] igpkuk gS&tkuw¡xkA pkgs tgk¡ Hkh tkÅ¡ vkSj pkgs cgqr lkyksa rd---fQj Hkh ;gh esjk ?kj gS&;gh jgsxkA

      bu nksuksa gh ?kjksa us esjs nknkth ds [kjhns gq;s vk¡xu esa vius yEcs&pkSM+s ik¡o ilkjs FksA ;g vk¡xu] tks djhc ,d fdeh0 yEck Fkk] vkSj vk/kk fdeh0 pkSM+kA nwljh rjQ cSjd ykbUl jksM dh iryh lh xnZu dks ltkrs gq;s gkjuqek yEcs Vhd isM+ksa dh drkj FkhA blds ikj catj Hkwjh tehu vkSj esy [kkrs yksdy iqfyl ds cSjd FksA

            ?kjksa ds nf{k.kh vkSj iwohZ Nksjksa ij isM+ksa ls <dh gq;h VwVh&QwVh v/kZuXu igkM+h Ja`[kyk;saA ysfdu buesa ls dsoy ,d dk gh uke Fkk&uke Hkh ,slk tks Hkwyk u tk;s&czãe;ksuh---czãek dh ;ksuhA “kgj dh “kq#vkr mŸkjh fn”kk ls gksrh gS vkSj bldk uke ,d ifo= vlqj ds uke ij j[kk x;k FkkA jk{kl ugha!---vlqj ds uke ijA nksuks gh ?kj ,d ,sls e/; LFkku ds gkf”k;s ij Fks ¼ekuks ,d [kqyh ifjf/k ls ca/ks gq;s gksa½ ftldk rtqekZ ;k vuqokn yxHkx ukeqefdu lk gSA vkSj gks Hkh D;ksa u\ ;g dsUnz fdrus gh vuNq, gkf”k;ksa ls cuk FkkA vufxur yksx&?kj ds lnL; vkSj dkedkt+h ukSdj&mruh gh jaxrsa vkSj Hkk’kk;sa&cksyh vkSj vucksyh HkhA ;g /kM+drk dsUnz vkSj Hkh dqN pht+ksa ls cuk gSA yksxksa ds vykok ;gk¡ clrs Fks jhfr&fjokt+ vkSj ;knsaA budk vuqokn\ ugha&dHkh t+#jr gh eglwl ugha dh] u yksxksa us] u ;knksa us] u fjokt+ksa usA cl ;w¡ lef>;s] tSls tysfc;k¡ dsoy ^feBkbZ* ugha gksrh vkSj jksVh&ijkBs dsoy ^czsM* ugha gksrh&vlqj dsoy jk{kl ugha gksrsA

      lQsn okyk ?kj] ftls ge ^vEeh dk ?kj* dgrs Fks] esjs nknkth us rc cuok;k Fkk] tc f}rh; fo”o;q) ds nkSjku lhesUV dh jk”kfuax tksjksa ij FkhA og [kqn ,d i<+s&fy[ks balku Fks& MkWDVj Fks] “kkL=fon Fks vkSj NksVs&eksVs iqjkrRofon Hkh FksA gk¡] rks jk”kfuax ds pyrs mUgksaus bl ?kj dks pwus vkSj feV~Vh ds dEikmUM ls cuok;k FkkA eqxy bekjrksa esa blh feJ.k dk iz;ksx fd;k tkrk FkkA rks cl] esjs nknkth dks gekjs feL=h dks bl feJ.k ij vVwV Hkjkslk Fkk&lhesUV vkSj dkUØhV ls dgha T;knkA

            tgk¡ ls feV~Vh [kksnh x;h Fkh] og txg ,d rkykc esa cny nh x;h FkhA fdukjksa ij ?kklA nknkth us blh rkykc esa Lokfn’V jsgw eNyh dk t+hjk NksM+k FkkA rkykc vEeh ds ?kj ls yxs gq;s ukSdjksa ds DokVZjksa ds Bhd ihNs FksA ckdh dk fgLlk ,d [kwclwjr ls cxhps esa rCnhy dj fn;k x;k FkkA ftlesa eqxy vkSj foDVksfj;u&nksuksa gh “kSfy;ksa dh Nki FkhA

            nf{k.kh Nksj ij [kM+s isM+ksa dh ck¡gsa] Qyksa ls ynh gq;ha Fkha] vkSj mŸkjh fljs ij taxyh o`{k viuk vuko`Ÿk vk¡py QSyk;s [kM+s FksA vkSj gk¡&pyus dk jkLrk Fkh Fkk&iwjs dEikmUM ds bnZ&fxnZA

            ^vEeh dk ?kj* dk viuk gh ,d vthcks&xjhc fj”rk Fkk] vius ukSdjksa lsA gekjk vk¡xu fdpu vkSj LVksj ls lVk gqvk FkkA blh vk¡xu ds ,d fgLls esa ukSdjksa ds DokVZj cus gq;s FksA blh fdpu esa lqcg ds uk”rs ls ysdj jkr dk [kkuk rS;kj gksrk FkkA fQj csgn “kkgh vUnkt+ esa ihry dh r”rfj;ksa esa ¼tks djhc 200 ehVj eghu diM+s ls <dh gksrh Fkh½ ltk dj cSBd esa ys tk;k tkrk FkkA vkSj fQj vEeh dk og ?keUM vkSj f”kdk;r dk feyktqyk ygt+k eq>s vkt Hkh ugha Hkwyrk&^vjs! ;g rks vke ckr FkhA*&fd dSls [kkus ds le; de ls de nl esgeku cSBrs FksA

            pkgs uk”rk gks] nksigj dk Hkkstu ;k jkr dk [kkuk&<sj lkjs esgeku&cqyk;s ;k fcu cqyk;s] ^cl ;w¡ gh ikl ls xqtjrs*] fj”rsnkj] iSr`d xk¡o ls yEcs lQj ij ;k=h ;k fQj og xjhc fj”rsnkj tks ;gk¡ jgdj gekjs nknkth ds [kpsZ ij viuh&viuh i<+kbZ iwjh dj jgs FksA

            buesa ,sls Hkh] tks dHkh fcuk Nqjh&dk¡Vs ds [kkus dks u Nq;sa vkSj dqN ,sls ftUgsa dHkh Nqjh&dk¡Vs ds n”kZu ulhc gh u gq;s gksaA ij lHkh lkFk feydj vius&vius ilanhnk ^LVkbZy* esa [kkuk [kkrs FksA

            ,sls “kkunkj ?kj dks vius gh tSls “kkunkj ukSdjksa dh njdkj Fkh vkSj bls feys Hkh ,sls gh yksxA gekjs [kkulkek ot+hj fe;k¡&og Hkh fdlh vkSj ds ugha gks ik;sA

            gk¡! lkB ds n”kd esa esjs firkth }kjk cuk;s x;s ?kj ds Hkh ughaA ^esjk ?kj* mŸkjh fljs ij cuh gqbZ fo”kky bekjr ¼^vEeh ds ?kj* ftruh½A nknkth dh rjg esjs firkth Hkh ijEijk esa fo”okl j[krs FksA rks ;g ijEijk v{kq..k jgs] vVwV jgs&blh [;ky ls dHkh ipkl lkyksa esa ,d&vk/k ckj vkus okys HkwdEi ds >Vdksa dks lgus yk;d cuk;k x;k FkkA ;g ?kj ,d vNwrh [kwclwjrh ls ltk FkkA og [kwclwjrh tks dsoy ekSu “kfDr ls vkrh gSA ekuks ,d ^ekSu vejrk*&,d ^jktlh vej ?kj* &oDr dks thHk fp<+krk gqvk] vkus okyh ih<+h ds Lokxr esa ck¡gaas QSyk dj [kM+k gqvkA ;gk¡ ij Hkh ,d cM+h ^Mk;fuax Vscy* Fkh&ckjg yksxksa ds fy;s tks ot+hj fe;k¡ dks ilUn vkuh pkfg;s Fkh&gkykafd vk;h ughaA

            ij vc lc cny pqdk FkkA le; HkhA ?kj ds ihNs dsoy rhu dejksa dk losZUV DokVZj cpk FkkA og Hkh deksos”k [kkyh gh jgrk FkkA u;s ukSdj cjkens ;k esgeku[kkus esa lksuk ilUn djrs FksA Mk;fuax Vscy ij ckjg rks ugha&nl Hkh ugha] dHkh&dHkkj ,d&vk/k esgeku! cspkjs ot+hj fe;k¡! cM+h fujk”kk gq;h Fkh mUgsaA dsoy ?kj ls gh ugha] mlds lkFk tqM+h lHkh pht+ksa lsA ^vEeh ds ?kj* dh rjg bl ?kj dks Hkh vius fdLe ds ukSdjksa dh bPNk FkhA vkSj bls fey Hkh x;sA ;g ckr vyx gS fd igyh fdLe] nwljh fdLe ds lkFk py ugha ikbZA

            ysfdu “kk;n vki tkuuk pkgsa---D;k bu ukSdjksa ds vius ?kj ugha Fks\

            dqN ds Fks vkSj dqN ds ughaA dqN us rks cjlksa ^vEeh ds ;gk¡* ;k fQj gekjs ?kj esa xqt+kj fn;sA bl nkSjku og iSlk cpkus esa yxs jgs fd viuk ,d ?kj cuk;saxs] [kjhnsaxs ;k okfil ys ysaxs&vius mlh ^nj&njkt+* ds xk¡o esaA tc lius iwjs gq;s rks ogha ykSV x;sA nwljksa us dHkh ijokg gh ugha dhA ?kj vkSj ekfyd cnyrs jgsA muds vkSj gekjs ?kjksa dh nwfj;k¡ bruh T;knk Fkha vkSj feyus ds volj brus de ¼tSls “kknh&C;kg½ fd gekjs fy;s muds ?kjksa dks igpkuuk yxHkx ukeqefdu FkkA ,d ;k nks ckj gh ns[ks Fks&vkSj fQj ;gk¡ gekjh cl dsoy ,d&vk/k feuV gh #drh Fkh ;k fQj #drh gh ugha FkhA

An interview with Qaisra Shahraz.

http://english.pravda.ru/history/16-05-2012/121132-qaisra_shahraz-0/

Changing Rhythms

Author: Nand Bhardwaj

Translator: Sheba Rakesh

           

                   My story is interesting. But it  might just not interest you; why would you want to know about a set of old issues in new lives?…. and I understand that. However, your interest or indifference cannot stop my thinking processes  and, there is one thing that I keep thinking – probably in my heart of hearts , wanting desperately to share it with you all… the question is – why on earth is my family bothered about the effects of my reputation on itself, when my existence was never bothered about in the same family?

          Personally, I was never granted the freedom of choices – choices of rules and regulations, whether in my family or community. They made them and I followed them. Never have I shouldered any responsibility in the overall successes or failures of their social endeavours. Frankly speaking, I was never considered worth it. Why today, am I then, expected to do anything to rectify the social or communal or even the family wrongs? Why at all?? I have grown up with the belief and also eventually learnt that every individual must work to ensure his own happiness – material or any other kinds – nobody hands it over to you on a platter, neither can one take away anybody else’s platter! so then, while I have  responsibly shouldered my share of chores – social or otherwise – in the way a responsible human being must do them… I do not at all feel responsible for the others’ stakes being heaped upon me along with their ultimate failure(s)….and don not feel guilty either.

 I was born into a family of artists – folk artists. My parents used to sing songs and play instruments to regale the community audiences – in marriages and other social occasions. Obviously, this profession could not have guaranteed them a secured future. How then, could they have thought about guaranteeing a secured one to their own children? Rectitude, piety and morality are not things that one considers when leading a hand to mouth existence. People overstep boundaries. Selfishness becomes the norm – even for parents. A child and moreso, a girl child is only born to  be disappointed under such circumstances . Her birth and her life is laced with irony – and so was mine.

          We were five siblings in all:  four sisters and one brother. Given the not so good situations of our lives; we were, as if, born with duty manuals etched out clearly in our minds. Bapu was a sarangi player and a very good singer as well. He was a regular artist at the rich functions and parties hosted by the native Thakurs and other rich people around the area; but with the passage of time, the number of invites  to such parties quickly declined as did the number of such events. The Rajwade songs were not as popular now…so bapu had almost given up his trade. The sarangi was more of a household decorative item now.

          Maa, however, continued to be invited to common marriages for her skills at singing traditional songs. Yashoda and Gauri; both my elder sisters had started accompanying her to such gatherings while Ganpat, our brother, who was the third in line had grown quite adept at playing the dhol. However, he was least interested in the family profession….and thus , our problems grew by leaps and bounds. Our parents could never sit down at peace and think about how our lives were to take shape – thanks to the more mundane worries about making two ends meet – obviously, when questions of existence dominate minds, the other ‘lifestyle’ issues and those pertaining to moulding us into better humans are relegated to the background .

          Good food, clothing and shelter, constitute the basic needs of families at large, but in our case, this was luxury too. Maa was a machine – she ‘manufactured’ us – the spare parts – we took shape and started jingling and clanging – just as musical instruments were expected to do. I was the fourth note in this eternally playing and eternally changing rhythmic cycle – They called me Vaadhu. It meant an ‘extra’. By the time, I could gather my name’s meaning and implication, it had become popular and I had been perennially tagged: “Vaadhu – the extra”. Today, when I look back, I think, how appropriate that name would indeed have been for me, if I had continued to lead the oblivious lifestyle that our lives and parents had originally gifted to us! Thankfully, however, that had not to be. Bina was the last child of the family and our youngest sister. She had been tagged in her own way – as the chudail who had devoured the last male flicker of the family candle – literally speaking, the son who had to come after her, but failed midway in his life’s journey. They said, it was because Bina suckled all her mother’s body, in the form of milk, that the unborn child could not survive – and thereafter, Bina became the child devourer. People suggested that she be formally named yuchki – like I had been called Vaadhu. This time however, Maa resisted and insisted that the girl be called according, to the constellations above – nakshatras – so then, she was called Bina.

          Maa could not survive much longer after the death of our still unborn brother….and we, the younger lot, could not comprehend what a mother’s love could be. Yashoda, our eldest sister was mother to us. She meant love, care, support and shield to us – till she got married and left us for her husband’s abode.  She was a responsible soul. Even when maa was alive, she used to support her in her odd jobs. She played the dhol, sang in family functions and knew everything about the rituals that were the norm at such gatherings. It was at one such gathering that Girijashankarji spotted us singing and immediately advised Yashoda to start sending us to school.

          Yashoda heeded his suggestion and sent me, Bina and Ganpat to school. She herself continued to complete her household chores and took care of her professional duties – and things became easier for her after we joined school; because otherwise she had us to take care of at home all the time and this obviously, made things tougher – the better part of the bargain was the fact that we were getting educated; although, I must confess that both Bina and Ganpat were least interested in coming to school.

          Such were  our lives when Girijashankarji – the school master came forth as my guardian angel, mentor and guide. He was a wonderful musician and could play the harmonium really well. People acknowledged his skills and he commanded quite some honour at the jaagrans in the vicinity. The master of mellifluous voice and rendition, his explanation of the Bhagvat defeated several acclaimed pundits of the vicinity, though, he himself never claimed that title. Content at being a very popular teacher of Hindi and music the local government school, Girijashankarji used to spend his time in teaching children – either the nuances of language or that of music. I was his favourite,  right from day one. I still remember the day when he had first called me to himself and asked me to sing a song. I had almost choked myself. He encouraged me and I sang – and Ishwar only knows what he found in the rhythms of my voice that I because one of his chosen ones in school for all singing purposes. No school function, thereafter, could be completed without my participation. He spent endless number of hours in training me, as if,  music had to be my sole education. Infact, I too had begun enjoying music more than my other lessons which were comparatively very drab. Singing ran in my blood and veins. I also adopted dance movements from the other village girls – the result was, I started earning handsome uvarangi amounts at family functions; and by the time, I reached the fifth standard in school ‘Vadhudi’ had earned the reputation of the best singer in the entire district.  Thanks to Girijashankarji, soon afterwards, my name was registered as Vasudha Panwar in the school records. Now, there was no looking back. Functions, honours, accolades and a reasonable amount of appreciation in the form of money coming in had doubled my courage.

          However, the new shining lights in my life could not light up  the bleak atmosphere at home. Bapu was a selfish man and least bothered with the flight of my talent. All he was concerned with, was the huge amounts of uvarangi come in – and therefore, he tried his best to ensure that I attended all the functions that I had been invited to; even if that meant, my missing out on school . I did not like this at all.

          He would accept invitations on my behalf, however,  when I resented and declined on the plea of being a disturbance in my  lessons, he would beat me black and blue and abuse me. “What can you learn at school!?...school!...school, school!...school will not give us any bread and butter; wasting time there would not lead you anywhere…we are professional artists…meant to be at gatherings; not your school!!”, he would thunder time and again. How could I have explained to him the debt that I owed to my school? Had it not been for it, I would have lagged behind in all this “professional artistry” act. He although, could never agree and never understand the way I thought.

          I had tried confiding in guruji regarding my family issues, but evidently, he was helpless too. However, as I appeared for my class final examinations, he sent an application on my behalf, for admission into the Navodaya Vidayalaya. That was a big leap indeed – towards a better and more independent future for me.

          Navodaya Vidayalayas are government aided schools where select needy students are kept at the school hostel and provided with all the facilities. In addition, children like us were also given scholarships. Talent or no, but I was lucky enough to have received all of these. But bapu had already made up his mind. He never wanted me to go anywhere – least of all to a place which would cut off all my connection with them at home and needless to say, affect their incomes too. Yashoda, proved to be a great help. After bapu had declared that he would not let me go anywhere I had equally stubbornly rebelled and told him of my resolve to go to Navodaya even at the cost of cutting off all ties from my family. It worked. Some further coaxing on Yashoda’s part led to the final success and next, she along with Ganpat came to see me off at the Pawta Navodaya Vidayalaya. The dream was now real – the rhythm life had begun to change.

          Barely about thirteen, I nonetheless, looked mature for my years – almost like a young woman. Besides, I had begun to grow more beautiful. My mellifluous voice and good presentation skills at school functions immediately caught the attention of all my teachers. Out of them, Anitaji, our music teacher, held me as her special favourite. Her chance meeting with Girijashankarji at Jaipur led to her knowing about my skills at folk dancing and singing. This resulted in her coming back to Navodaya and taking me under her ample wings. Whereas, I had only some rudimentary knowledge in folk songs and dances, Anitaji was already considered an esteemed dancer from the Jaipur gharana; besides  possessing a very good knowledge of classical singing.

          My dances were being increasingly appreciated. They said I was wonderfully flexible in my moves – almost compared me to a firki on stage – and that scared my co-dances to quite an extent.    My training under Anitaji’s expert guidance perfected a new kind of dance form – a unique blend of Kathak and folk dance, that captivated and mesmerized audiences like never before.

          By the time I had passed my high school and senior secondary, I had acquired the title of the new talent in town; though I remained blissfully unaware of all the adulation. Almost six long years had passed by and I had already presented at the state and National levels. Just about then, the  All India Radio called for its voice test, I was still at the senior secondary level, - I appeared and passed it with B - high grade. Radio, television, Tourism department functions and the other events had now given me a new sky to soar in. My successful completion of the voice test had presented me with an opportunity soon afterwards, to present a solo Kathak rendition at Delhi’s Kamani auditorium. This was a big one and I burnt the midnight oil for the event. The nervousness was gnawing, but Anitaji’s continuous encouragement helped like anything – The result was an excellent presentation of my skills at Bhawai and the folk dances. The audiences were left asking for more and the media flaunted my talents with an unabashed aplomb. I was now a household name. Of course, all this would never have been, without Anitaji’s support and guidance. She trained me, encouraged me and taught me to guard myself against all the unwanted attention that usually is generated by newly acquired popularity. She told me the necessity of having an academic degree in hand and cautioned me against being swept off by anything else in the world other than an undivided concentration at augmenting my academic and dancing skill. She was now my friend, philosopher and guide .

          After completing my senior secondary at school, the next step had to be college education. Anitaji was a great help here as well. She had her family staying at Jaipur – her mother and elder brother to be precise. Needless to say, this was my next destination. She got me admitted in the college and got my arrangements done at the hostel as well. My studies were going well and my connection in the Ministry of culture, Department of Tourism, Sangeet- Natak Academy, Radio and T.V. were helping me like never before. My rendition at such platforms did not only help at showcasing my talents, but also helped me financially. The perennial and unflinching support of mentors like Pt. Girijashankarji, Anitaji, Director of the Sangeet Natak Academy- Sudhaji and other senior artists was an added feather in my cap – and it helped in soar higher in the skies of talent and adulation.

          Amidst all this, my connections with my family were at an all time low. Two years after my admission at Navodaya, I had gone home for Yashoda and Gauri’s marriage, and the next year for Ganpat’s engagement. However, my arrivals were somehow always greeted by two things – one was Bina’s unspoken problems and the second, was obviously bapu’s perpetual ranting, “…Vadhudi…finish your studies and come back…I, have to get you and Bina married now…”

          His emphasis on my coming back and getting married was frustrating me no ends, and I often wondered at his dry unconcern…he had no appreciation for my talents, my reputation and my never ending efforts to earn my own scholarships so that I completed my education on my own. All, he was concerned was, with his own selfish interests. He wanted me to hand over all my earnings to him. Ofcourse, I knew him too well, so I had by now, already opened a personal bank account and started depositing my money, saving quite some amount by now. I had already known that I would be needing all that money to pursue my education further.

          Anyways, the point here is, that I had almost stopped going back, because of such selfish attitudes.

         Back here, however, the circumstances had gone to the dogs. After Yashoda and Gauri had got married, Bina could only manage to barely feed Ganpat and bapu. Even she did not have any control over the situation. Initially, Yashoda did try to awaken and jolt their sleeping senses into some sense of responsibility, but Ganpat proved to be beyond control; as a result Yashoda had minimized her visits to the family. The plaster on the walls had started coming off. The main door had already cracked and the courtyard was in a bad shape. Rajais and the other winter useables had already reached beyond repair. The two inner rooms were in an equally bad state – and there seemed to be neither the money, nor the inclination to get things in place. On top of it, other things were no less irritating the last time I had visited them – it was Ganpat’s marriage – I was treated like a ‘out of the world’ thing. People were amazed, critical and equally jealous of my clothes and my appearance. Some of them tried their level best to woo my bapu into “selling” me off in marriage. I was put off, like never before and come back immediately after the main rituals got over.

          I would not have returned but for certain special reasons – Bapu’s drinking bouts had deteriorated beyond repair. What was even worse in these circumstances was that people were pointing fingers at Bina. I guess this had to be. In the absence of a protective father and the onslaught of poverty – who can be the trustee of a daughter’s dignity? Anyways, asking Bina about it did not help. Thinking, that I was blindly trusting peoples’ opinion about her, she got annoyed and stung me with her question, “How will you be able to help me anyways?”

          “Bina!...I am not trusting anyone…I just want to get to the root of your problem so that things can be better handled…” My insistence broke her and she began to cry. The fact that she was the only one in the family to run around, and collect all the bare necessities for the household thanks to an irresponsible brother and a drunk father – it had led to the girl’s irreparable hopelessness. The icing on the cake was bapu’s habit of beating her black and blue into submission whenever she would ‘dare’ to budge from her fixed stance. Though, it is worth mentioning, that sometimes, she would be beaten even when she did not budge from her position. However, that maybe, Bina, under such a situation would run out of the house and go to our neighbouring chachi to protect herself. ….at times would even sleep in her house.

          And then nemesis fell. Bina finally confided – The fateful night was the marriage of a local Seth’s son. She had gone for the ritual of singing the ratjaga songs along with the neighbourhood chachi. It was here that she was beguiled into drinking an adulterated sherbet, and when she started complaining of being unwell, the Seth’s son took her along himself in his car. Ofcourse, he said to the others, that he would drop her home. Bina, next woke up and found herself next to a strange man who was shamelessly leering at her, when she opened her eyes. The unwanted had already happened. The man tried to talk, but Bina slapped him fight, pushed him aside and came out. She knew the area…it was the Seth’s farmhouse. On her way out, she had encountered the Seth’s son, who tried appearing her but Bina, ran home – barefooted and in the middle of the ominous night.   

          The girl had been raped – and the brother and father were sleeping dead drunk – oblivious of the devastation. She slept with the night but could not get up with the next day. By the time, she opened her eyes, her “well – wishing” bapu and Ganpat had already left. Bina did not have to really wait for the next catastrophe. It came to her walking. The so called “social media” was rather active behind her back – filled up ideas in bapu’s mind so that both he and Ganpat came to Bina, howling and scowling. They were hardly interested in knowing her version of things – people said that the Seth had already fuelled and quelled their greed – but ofcourse, the daughter had not remained of any value whatsoever. The family apathy had made it more difficult for her to survive in a village already raging with hateful fires – they threatened to engulf her alive!

          “…Now…afterall this…whom am I to look upto as a guardian? Is there someone to help me out?...I am located in between the devil and the deep sea. Nobody to help and no employment either. Basic survival guides me…although I still know, deep within myself that I will never ever do anything, shameful…the worst has already happened…but I am sick of this kind of life. Is it worth living?...you tell me! Bapu and Ganpat cannot be trusted at all…I have already started hating them beyond repair. Chachi is no better, but at least not worse than these two monsters, so I spend my nights at her place…although I realize, she is exploits me to the best of her benefits…but atleast, I feel physically safe there…”

          I was at a loss of for words. Bina’s pending marriage was the only shining ray of hope in this dark tunnel of life. She had been engaged to Ganpat’s brother – in – law. I asked her, “…but you got engaged!...what about your marriage?”

          “The boy’s father wants money, although the boy himself is ready to marry me. Since, his sister has already been married off, they are free of all liabilities…as for my own bapu and beera…you know them very well. Frankly speaking, there is not much demand for artists like us…whenever marriages or functions take place, people are happier with filmi music and cassettes, rather than our art…but then, whatever meager amount of money I get from there is fleeced away by the two of them…I feel so cheated and defeated in life…have lost interest in living…now am no more accepting any invitation etc…there is hardly any motivation….”

          I had to help Bina – somehow. But how…?

Girijashankarji was my next and only ray of hope under these circumstances. I went to him and told him everything. He suggested that we  go to Ramgarh to meet the boy’s father to sort out things. Next morning we were at Ramgarh and coincidentally the boy and his father were very much at home. Girijashankarji commanded respect in the vicinity and the boy himself had been his student. Presently, he was employed in a music orchestra as a trumpet player at Churu. He had already confessed his liking for Bina, who was good to look at. I had about twenty thousand in my pocket and I had told everything to Guruji. The marriage had to be solemnized after one month. We came back to Fatehpur, the same evening. The news of Bina’s marriage having been finalized by me was not welcomed at home. Bapu was quiet and bhojai did not even  look at me but Ganpat  could not hide his displeasure. He questioned my status in the family and my rights on Bina, to have settled this marriage. He felt, he had been badly insulted by me…and ofcourse, I did not even try reminding him that I was their elder sister. It would hardly have helped matters- Ganpat was already screaming at me,

          “…Who are you to have taken this decision…are you aware of our problems and issues?...you cannot be, since you have almost parted ways with the family!...how then could you get into this kind of panchayati with regard to Bina??”

          “…but bhai!...you had already settled the alliance…I have only gone ahead with finalizing the date!”,  I calmly replied.

          Blaming was at its best, “…You!...You!?...earning such good name for the family…going around…dancing and singing in front of all and sundry…people point fingers at as…do you realize?...or have you sold off all your laaj and sharm!??”, he thundered.

          I, had not lost my cool,

          “…What and how can this bring as a bad reputation, I fail to understand! Has this not been in our blood and earned us bread and butter since times immemorial?...and I have only made this better by earning a name and good money!...”

          “…I do not want to argue with you...but one thing…you are no more our Vaadhu…you are Vasudha…so remain Vasudha…you are no longer of this family…leave Bina and her marriage alone…we are still there for her…”

          I felt very angry, but did not want to sabotage matters for useless ego hassles. While I was still thinking of a reply, Bina rudely lashed out,

          “…Oh!...so now you…you, of all the people will look after me! And I am expected to leave my real sister aside for your caring attitudes!...Thanks to people like you and bapu…girls like us must die before their time…enough of your goodness…don’t make me speak…or else you wouldn’t find space to hide your wretched face!!!”

          A teary eyed Bina was heaving – panting – screaming…all at the same time. She felt helpless…and I felt helpless too. Before I could pacify anyone, Ganpat stomped out of the house in great rage, bhojai went inside and bapu was as usual – non reactionary, non – committal.

          Ganpat’s reaction conveyed his disinterest. Bapu’s existence was seeking apathy from all nook and corners. His sarangi was silent – as was the dholak – on whose rythms, Yashoda’s and maa’s voices gyrated and sang. Bina’s silence was screaming aloud – and I could hear her plea – these stale rhythms had to be changed anew – it was difficult for new lives to be supported with old thinking patterns… just like new rhythms could not be generated out of old instruments.

          It was time for independence. Afterall, why must girls think of ending their lives if they feel their guardians and caretakers are not good enough for them?...should they not become good enough to support themselves under such circumstances? To talk of death is to acknowledge self defeat – and that is detestable!

          Self – dependence was fine and yet, my heart had been cleaved into two. How could the family foundations be so solidly shaken by the earthquakes of selfishness and greed? If each person be so secluded and locked up in his own cell in such a small institution as family...how, then could we envisage a healthy and wholesome future – society and family?…I knew…rhythms had to be changed…only without affecting the overall harmony…it was now and immediately a much needed effort!!

Sexuality, Sorority and Women.

On Sexuality, Sorority and Women

Ganga-Gomati

गंगा-गोमती
मैं गोमती हूँ...
स्वर्ग में सिमटी,
त्रिकाल की जटाओं से निकल कर
सोचा...
एक बार धरती को निहार तो आऊँ....

हरित सौंदय्र और अनवरत चंचलता को माप तो आऊं...
कल्लोल करती, हंसती, खिलखिलात,
... आँचल को लहराती,
यौवन के उफान पर
अपने मद में मदमाती,
में चल पड़ी...

घर की सघन छाँव
छोड़ना आसन न था
...न ही अच्छा laga
उस त्रिकालदर्शी को छोड़ना
जिसने स्वर्ग से उतरती
मुझ अल्हड-गवांर को पिता का सा वात्सल्य दिया
पर...
हाँ, मुझे निकलना था...
उस दुनिया को देखना tha
जो मैंने अब तक नहीं सराही थी...
कौतुकी की जिज्ञासा अब फैल रही थी
तो बस...
में चल पड़ी....


पाषण पहाड़ों का सीना अपनी हंसी से चीरती
पाषण पहाड़ों का सीना अपनी हंसी से चीरती
और जंगलों को हरियाली को स्वयं में पीती
मिलन तक में यूं ही रही जीती
ताकि समझ सकूं इंसानों के mann की निति....
बस,
यहीं से शुरू है मेरी आपबीती...

नितांत श्वेत वस्त्रों को धारण किये
जब प्रथम बार चक्र कुण्ड में आई
तो जलती हुयी पायी आरतियों के अनवरत ज्वाला
कृतार्थ हुयी इस सम्मान से,
मुझ जैसी अनछुई स्वार्गिक बाला,
दिव्या मन्त्रों पर आरूद होकर एक नयी पवित्रता की ओअर
जहाँ से कोसों दूर था इंसानी स्वार्थ का शोर...

मंदिर देखे,
देखे विधाता
जब पायी पूजा में वही शिव-गौर,
तो अपनाया एक नया धरती का नाता
.....अब लोग कहने लगे थे मुझे माता...

सोचा...
शायद पापों का दुःख सालता हो....
और लालिमा सा गहन
कर्मों का दघ्द आलता हो....
उसी से पाना चाहते हो छुटकारा
ओह!
...तो यह था इंसानी खेल सारा!

वहां से में और आगे बाद चली
शने शने
में आई लक्ष्मंनगर की गली,
अब लोग इसे लखनऊ कहते थे
मुझे लगा
इसकी गलियों में फरिश्तों के पते बहते थे
नवाबी थी शौकत औ शान
यज्ञों का धुआं...
या तोपों की ललकार
मेरे किनारे हुए जब-तब इस शान से गुन्जयेमान,

सदियाँ बीत चली हैं अब
मैंने बहते हुए देखा है अवधी अदब
वोह हुक्के, वोह महफिलें
उमराव के आंसूं और ग़ालिब के गरीब किस्से,
जलसों के रंग और होली की Bhaang
मेरे ही दामन से रंगे रंगरेजों के कपड़ों के रंग
वोह ठुमरियां, सहनाई और शामें
यादों की टुकड़ियां आज भी हैं मेरे संग...

ज़माने बदले
और बदली हजरतगंज की चाल,
अमीनाबाद के पर्दानशीं...चौक के हाल
कालीबाड़ी की भक्ति,
मन्न्कमेश्वर की भेद...
नया समय गया पुराने को लील
कभी के मेरे श्वेत वस्त्र
आज धुंए से धुंधले हैं....
निरन्तरता की मोम बत्ती पर
अब नश्वरता के भुनगे हैं...
फिर भी सोचती हूँ...
की जब तक रहूँ
इनसे कुच्छ न कहूं
ताकि यह तो जी लें...
चाहे फिर में जो कुछ सहूँ.....
क्योंकि यह इंसान हैं....
लोलुपता और भ्रष्टता की खान हैं....
मैं माता हूँ...
परोपकार और प्रेम से मरे ओर छोर दैदीप्यमान हैं....

हो सकता है....
इन्हें मिले यह शिक्षा...
की प्रेम से ही मिलती है सद्गति की भिक्षा ...
मेरा क्या है...
आज हों....कल नहीं भी....
पर निरंतरता तो नहीं थमेगी....
न काल की....न प्राण की...
न अग्नि की...न आयुष्मान की...
अब भी जा रही हूँ....अपने लक्ष्य की ओर....
जहाँ से फिर कोसों दूर होगा इंसानी स्वार्थ का शोर.....
कोसों दूर होगा इंसानी स्व्वार्थ का शोर!!!

On Translation and On Translating Tabish Khair's The Bus Stopped.

 http://english.pravda.ru/society/anomal/09-02-2012/120463-cultural_communication-0/